


Black Roses and Hail Mary's

by CelticAurora



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Feels, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, I have a lot of feelings about Keith, Mentions of Adam/Shiro, Post-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Kerberos Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticAurora/pseuds/CelticAurora
Summary: “One year ago, we witnessed one of the greatest losses in the scientific community: The loss of the Kerberos, the first manned flight to one of Pluto’s moons.”One year after the loss of the Kerberos mission, Keith visits Shiro's memorial.





	Black Roses and Hail Mary's

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of feelings the other night. Now you guys get to have them too.
> 
> Title is from ["Gone Away" by The Offspring](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRHrGzn9I6A). This fic was inspired by [Five Finger Death Punch's cover of the same song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSwewlSkIXU)

“ _ One year ago, we witnessed one of the greatest losses in the science community: The loss of the Kerberos, the first manned flight to one of Pluto’s moons. _ ”

Keith sat on the dingy couch. He hadn’t moved in hours; he’d gone through the list of everything he needed to do, of the provisions he needed to get, of the solar panels that needed cleaning, of the exploring he wanted to do of the nearby cave system, trying for the hundredth time to make sense of the lion carvings or the energy that radiated from it. But still he sat, the news broadcast playing via a holographic projection from the wrist communicator he’d snuck out when he’d been booted from the Garrison.

“ _ Kerberos marked the culmination of years of research done by the Galaxy Garrison in manned deep-space flight, _ ” the newscaster droned on, “ _ a dream of man, once thought to be impossible, until the success of the Orion and Calypso missions, and the establishment of the Galaxy Garrison After the success of missions such as Xanadu, Herschel, and Poseidon, the Galaxy Garrison looked to send mankind even deeper into space. The Kerberos mission was the first of five deep-space missions planned to visit the moons of one of our solar system’s farthest celestial bodies… _ ”

He hurt. Desert life had made him tough, carved out lean, hard edges in both his body and his spirit. But Keith hurt, chest filled with an ache as heavy and real as if someone had taken a fist to his solar plexus. 

“ _ Unfortunately, the mission was devastated by the loss of the Kerberos shuttle, as well as the three astronauts on board: Chief Science Officer Samuel Holt, Chief Engineer Matthew Holt, and Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane, pilot of the Kerberos mission. _ ”

A noise escaped Keith, one much like the sound he’d heard the first time he’d approached an injured coyote, a few weeks into his time living in the desert. He crossed his arms over his chest, protecting that hurt part of himself, fingers digging into his collarbones as if that would take the pain of the loss away.

“ _ This mission would be Shirogane’s last trip to space before his retirement. Unfortunately, it is believed that the mission went critical, and ultimately failed, due to pilot error -  _ ”

With a strangled cry, Keith grabbed his wrist communicator and chucked it across the room, wanting the broadcast to stop, not wanting to hear those two words, those two awful words that condemned the one person who had done and meant the most in his eighteen short years of life.

_ Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. _

The communicator hit the wall with a clatter, then the floor. It didn’t break - Garrison tech was made of sterner stuff than that - but the broadcast stopped playing, at least. Keith sat in silence now, every inch of him raw, an open wound that had never fully healed after the news had come in one year ago…

* * *

 

_ The auditorium was cold, meant to be comfortable when cadets were in their uniforms. But this emergency meeting had been called twenty minutes before lights-out, so most of the cadets that had been shuffled in were already in their pajamas. A few of them even sported wet hair or towel-hats.  _

_ Keith plucked nervously at the sleeve of his shirt. A meeting twenty minutes before lights out could never mean anything good, and with Kerberos in space...with Shiro in space… _

_ Commander Iverson stepped onto the stage, then stopped as someone else mounted the stage. Keith’s heart dropped into his stomach when he realized it was Admiral Sonda. Iverson said something quietly to her, and Keith’s stomach bottomed out. If the admiral herself was here, there was no chance this was good news. _

_ She approached the podium, and everyone fell silent. In the seat next to him, Lance - the fresh-faced cargo pilot who seemed to have some sort of imagined rivalry with him - leaned forward, his very breathing enough to put Keith even more on edge. _

_ “Students and staff of the Galaxy Garrison,” Sonda began, voice grave. “It is with deepest sorrow that I tell you this. At 2200 hours last night, Mission Control lost all communication with the Kerberos shuttle. All attempts to re-establish communication with the shuttle or crew have been met with no response. At 2100 hours tonight, the Kerberos mission was deemed a failure, and the crew…” _

_ She faltered. The great Admiral Sonda, who was the last surviving crew member of the harrowing Xanadu mission to Saturn’s moon Titan, faltered. If she was faltering, this was bad news indeed, and Keith felt like he was going to be sick all over the concrete floor. _

_ “All three crew members have been declared deceased.” _

_ A gasp went through the audience. Keith stopped breathing. _

_ “Right now, the cause of the Kerberos mission failure is undetermined, but we suspect pilot error may be the cause of it…” _

_ The entire world went numb and silent around Keith.  _

Pilot error.

Shiro.

_ No, it couldn’t be. Shiro was the best damn pilot in the Garrison. He’d beaten every record. He was the golden boy, the one to beat. And his health...he’d cleared his physicals. Keith had heard the conversation, heard the words from Samuel Holt’s mouth himself. Shiro may have been sick, but he was in the top physical condition he could be for the mission. _

Pilot error.

_ “Hey, something’s up with Kogane,” someone said nearby, but the words were distant, muffled, as if he was underwater and someone was trying to speak to him. _

_ There were other comments, other people speaking, and then, a pair of hands under his arms that pulled him to his feet. Numbly, he followed, his movements robotic. _

_ Shiro.  _

_ Deceased. _

He’s gone.

_ He wasn’t even aware that they’d left the auditorium until whoever was leading him stopped, then took him by the shoulders. They gave him a gentle shake. _

_ “Keith? Keith?” _

_ He looked up. Adam. Adam stood there, eyes watery - no, he was crying, openly crying, even as he knelt in front of Keith and tried to bring him back to Earth. _

_ “Hey. Hey, come back here,” Adam said, trying to sound firm and steady despite his wavering voice. “Keith, breathe. Keith…” His voice caught on a sob. “Keith please…” _

Who are you to cry for him?  _ Keith wanted to yell. _ You left him. You told him that you wouldn’t be here when he came back. You left him. You were selfish, and you left him, and now look what happened. Now he’s gone.

_ He wanted to scream. Wanted to punch Adam. Wanted to tear down the sky and shake the heavens, because Shiro was gone, the Kerberos was gone, and they were in there saying it was his fault, that he led to the mission failure. _

_ But all Keith could do was crumple to the ground and cry. _

* * *

 

The house was too quiet with the broadcast shut off, and Keith needed to do something. 

His hoverbike - Shiro’s old bike - was in need of some repairs, but it would get done what he needed to get done. The other matter was how much trouble he would get in if he were caught - technically, where he was going was Garrison property, even if it wasn’t on the actual base itself. But tonight, he didn’t have it in him to assess risk versus reward. Tonight, he just needed to act, needed to do something.

Besides, given the punch he’d thrown at Iverson - the one that had gotten him kicked out of the Garrison - he wasn’t exactly worried about whether or not he’d be able to escape if he got caught.

The hoverbike hummed to life, fans in its base stirring up clouds of sand. Keith mounted it, taking off across the desert, feeling the wind in his hair, sand and God knew what else stinging his eyes as he flew. But it was a freeing feeling - it made him feel like there was nothing in the world that he needed to worry about. It took him back to simpler times - flying across the desert, racing Shiro through the cliffs and over dunes, knowing there was one person in the world who cared about him, who saw him as more than just a troubled student, a discipline issue. 

There was a town a few miles from the Garrison, appropriately named Garrisonville. There wasn’t much to Garrisonville, and calling it a town was maybe a little generous - it was hardly more than a desert outpost, with a post office, a few shops, and several restaurants and bars, the latter of which Keith knew a few instructors liked to frequent on weekends. And then, on the very outskirts of the town, there was a small, gated cemetery. It was a rare spot of green in the sand, and keeping it green probably used up more water than the entire Garrison, but the Garrison paid for its upkeep, and in return, the citizens of Garrisonville shared it with the Garrison, in the odd one-off tragedies that sprung up. A few older instructors were buried there, as well as victims of the Garrison’s freak accidents.

There had been nothing left of Shiro or either Holts to bury, but a monument had been erected in their memory, at the back of the cemetery. Keith scaled the fence with little trouble, memories of climbing trees and fences at the homes etched not only into his brain, but his muscles as well. The place had a night watchman, but he was in his seventies and already had one foot in the grave, so to speak. Keith wondered, as he wove through headstones, if they would bury the watchman here. 

Keith knew the path to the monument, even though he hadn’t been to the cemetery in nearly a year. He traced the route, through headstones and around memorial benches, looking at the names on the stones. Some were worn away, from time and harsh desert sandstorms; the Garrison had been around for a while, and maybe Garrisonville was even older than that, one of those old desert mining towns that had fallen to nothing until the Garrison came in. 

The monument was grand, a black marble obelisk, carved with the names of Dr. Holt, Matt Holt, and Shiro, as well as their birth dates and a presumed death date. There was an inscription carved into the marble; Keith had never actually read the inscription, as he’d never actually gotten close enough to know it was even there. He ran his fingers over the letters, just able to read them by the light of the moon.

_ Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light, _

_ I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night. _

A lump came to Keith’s throat, and he reached up to trace the letters of Shiro’s name.

* * *

 

_ “Simulation failed.” _

_ Keith couldn’t even find the energy, the emotional wherewithal, to be embarrassed at having wrecked the simulator on a course he normally could have done blindfolded. He slumped back in the pilot seat, watching the burning red letters flash across the screen as the lights came back up in the simulator. _

_ He heard his assigned engineer and comm-spec unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of their seats, and then the back of the shuttle opened. _

_ "Roll out!” _

_ Iverson. He was pissed. His two squadmates shuffled out, boots on the walkway sounded like men being marched to their deaths. Keith didn’t move. _

_ He hadn’t slept properly in three days. He would pass out, exhausted by the effort of just trying to pretend everything was okay, that his entire world hadn’t come apart at the seams, only to be ripped from sleep by nightmares of what had happened to Shiro - of the shuttle crashing on the surface of Kerberos, of the terror Shiro must have felt in what would be his final moments. He’d wake up, cold sweat mingling with tears to the point where he couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. _

_ Everything just cost too much effort, and Keith was at his breaking point. _

_ “Kogane! Roll out, I said!” _

_ If Iverson came in, he would likely drag Keith out by his hair. He unclipped his harness and shuffled out, feeling less like a man being led to his execution and more like a zombie, barely able to make sense of the world around him. _

_ His two squadmates weren’t waiting for him on the bridge to the simulator. Only Iverson, dark eyes narrowed and brows furrowed hard. The rest of the group was on the deck, carefully set apart from Keith; he could see Lance craning his neck to see what was going on, James’s cruel, stinging smirk. _

_ “What the Sam Hill kinda flying you call that, Kogane?” Iverson began. _

_ “I’m sorry, sir.” _

_ “Top pilot? I’ve seen kindergarteners do better on the simulator! This was supposed to be an easy drop and retrieval! How do you botch that, Kogane?” _

_ “I’m...sorry, sir…” _

_ Some of the people in his class were snickering. James was the loudest. _

_ “And now you’re going to stand here and give me this kicked-puppy look because you failed? Pathetic.” _

_ Keith couldn’t even say anything. He clenched his jaw, curled his hands into fists, anything to keep him grounded and make sure that he didn’t start crying in front of the rest of the class. Better to just take the dressing-down he was getting without a single drop of emotion. _

_ “If you’re going bomb a simulation that hard, you should at least have the guts to look me and your teammates in the eye and apologize for being such a colossal disappointment.” _

_ Keith raised his head, forcing himself to look Iverson in the eye. “I’m sorry, sir.” _

_ “You had better be. And I hope you plan on getting it together soon, Kogane, because this Garrison is not up to putting any lives on the line after Shirogane’s disaster.” _

_ The words hit Keith like a punch to the gut. He knew that everyone and their brother in the Garrison had blamed pilot error for the failure of the Kerberos mission, but to hear Iverson put it so callously - to have him just casually put the blame on Shiro for the failure of the entire mission - was just more than he was sure he could bear. _

_ “Watch, he’s gonna freaking cry,” he heard James say, but...James’s voice was distorted, like it was coming from underwater. He could barely hear anything over the pounding of his heart in his ears. _

_ “Kogane! Are you even listening to me?” _

_ Iverson was now less than a foot from his face, but he sounded a million miles away. Something in Keith reached a fever pitch, drowning out all sounds around him, except for one small, vicious voice, deep inside of him. _

Make him pay for what he said.

_ Keith’s fist flew, an unforgiving right jab directly into one of Iverson’s eyes. His knuckles throbbed as they connected, but there was an unmistakable crunch of shattering bone, and something squishy gave way under Keith’s hand. The rest of his class screamed, and Iverson hit the floor, now looking up at Keith in horror, blood dripping down his face. _

_ Twenty-four hours later, when guards dumped Keith at the edge of the desert, where the Garrison’s property ended, he realized they’d never even let him wash Iverson’s blood off of his hands. _

* * *

 

He hadn’t been allowed to come to the memorial service. 

Word had gotten out to Keith’s shack about the memorial service, relayed through his comms device. He was sure that if he was seen at the service, he’d likely be arrested on sight, but that didn’t stop him from showing up the day of; it had been a rare, cloudy day in the desert, and he’d perched himself on the roof of a nearby house with a pair of binoculars. Too far away to hear, but enough to see. To watch as a woman with sandy-brown hair was presented with two medals, one of which she’d passed along to the bespectacled young girl next to her. To watch as Adam - Adam, of all people - stepped forward to receive a medal, presumably in Shiro’s honor. At the end of the ceremony, Commander Iverson, eye still taped up with gauze that was stained a faint red, presented Adam with a plain cardboard box, likely one that had Shiro’s belongings in it.

Like Keith, Shiro hadn’t had anyone left.

Unlike Keith, people actually missed Shiro.

* * *

_ “So this is it, huh?” _

_ Keith looked up in awe at the massive ship that towered over the Garrison launchpad. He’d seen photos and footage of previous launches, of course; all cadets who had come through the doors of the Garrison had, and he’d seen them while in school, too. But he’d never gotten this close - and honestly, he’d never dreamed that he would. He just wasn’t that kid - the one that everyone said would go far, who would have doors opening for him left and right.  _

_ “Yeah, that’s it,” Shiro said. Unlike Keith, who had stuffed his hands into his pockets, and whose hair was way longer than regulation would have liked, Shiro was the very picture of paramilitary perfection, hair trimmed, uniform pressed, standing with his feet shoulder-width apart and hands behind his back. “And in three hours, I’m going to be on that ship, heading for Kerberos.” _

_ Kerberos. The word left a strange feeling in Keith’s stomach. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the Kerberos mission. He’d been there, when Iverson had tried to shoot down Shiro’s involvement with the mission, when Sam Holt had stuck up for Shiro and insisted that he go on the mission or no one would. He was glad that Shiro was getting to go on the mission. He’d wanted this more than anything - especially now that Keith knew Shiro’s peak condition was more or less a ticking time bomb, that there would eventually be a day where Shiro was no longer the same man that stood in front of him - that eventually, there would be a day Shiro may no longer be able to walk on his own, or care for himself. _

_ But at the same time...Kerberos was so far away. Even though radio communications through deep space had improved, there was still a two-hour delay on radio communications, so any word that Shiro or his crew would get to Garrison base - or any word they got to him - wouldn’t be live, like the way speaking to him was. And Keith knew he wouldn’t get the privilege of speaking to Shiro while he was in space, as all communication was strictly between the astronauts and the Garrison, and communication with those who didn’t have a security clearance was more or less forbidden. _

_ And even though Shiro had passed all of his physicals, Keith was still worried that something would go wrong. If Shiro got sick in deep space, what would happen? How would they care for him. _

_ “Keith? You okay?” _

_ He looked up. Shiro was looking down at him, gray eyes concerned. Over Shiro’s shoulder, he could see a brown-haired woman snapping pictures of Commander Holt, Matt, and a young girl in a lavender dress. The entire Holt family had come to see Matt and Commander Holt off; they’d even brought their dog. But Shiro...it was just him and Shiro. _

_ “Yeah,” he said, looking down at his boots. _

_ “You’re worried.” _

_ Keith shrugged. “I guess I just...Kerberos is a long way away. What if you get sick?” _

_ “Commander Holt is trained in first aid and medication administration,” Shiro said. “I think I’ll be okay.” _

_ “I don’t just mean if you get a cold or something,” Keith said. “I mean if...you know…” _

_ Shiro touched his right wrist. Even through the thick fabric of his jacket, Keith could see the outline of his electrostim bracelet. He’d touched it, a time or two, helped Shiro adjust the settings on it after one hoverbike ride through the desert, when Shiro’s entire right arm had locked up in a painful muscle spasm.  _

_ “I have to do this, Keith,” he said, voice quiet, expression guarded. Keith knew this was a sore subject for him. He’d seen the change in Shiro, the change in Shiro and Adam’s relationship, how Adam wouldn’t even speak to Shiro anymore. He’d seen Shiro put the ring Adam had once given him into a box and lock it in his desk drawer.  _

_ And, the one night Keith had fallen asleep on Shiro’s floor and woken, disoriented in the dark room, he’d heard Shiro cry for the man who had chosen not to stand by his side. _

_ Keith wouldn’t be that guy. Not to Shiro. Not to the only person in the world who truly, genuinely cared about him. _

_ “I know you do,” Keith said. “And I wouldn’t ask you not to. Space, Kerberos, this mission...I know how much it means to you.” _

_ For once, the great Takashi Shirogane was at a loss for words. He looked to Keith, a glimmer of hope in those gray eyes. Keith smiled, reaching up and putting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  _

_ “You make sure you come back, yeah?” _

_ “I will,” Shiro said. “That’s a promise.” _

_ Keith nodded. A moment later, Shiro’s hand came down on his shoulder. He looked up, and Shiro’s expression was back to being guarded. _

_ “Can you promise me something, Keith?” _

_ “Yeah. Anything.” _

_ “Promise me...you’ll be here when I come back?” _

_ Keith bit his lip, swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat. How much it must have taken for Shiro to say that, knowing that the man who Shiro had loved more than anything had told him that he wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t support Shiro’s dream. Keith nodded, firmly, so there was no chance that Shiro would misunderstand him. _

_ “I promise.” _

* * *

 

“I’m so sorry, Shiro,” Keith murmured, hand still pressed against the carved letters of Shiro’s name. “I promised you I would be there when you came back. I promised…”

He trailed off, chest tightening like it was trapped in a vice. He’d wanted so badly to be there when Shiro returned, wanted to show him how much he cared about Shiro’s dreams. Shiro had done everything for him. It was the least he could do.

But there was no coming back for Shiro.

They’d both broken their promises.

Shiro hadn’t deserved what had happened to him. Hadn’t deserved being sick. Hadn’t deserved to have Adam walk away. Hadn’t deserved to die in the cold, unforgiving vastness of space, millions of miles away from the people who cared about him.

Keith took a shaky breath, eyes burning with tears. He bit the inside of his cheek to try to hold them back, but it was like trying to hold back a river. They dribbled down his cheeks, dripped onto the drying grass beneath his feet.

“I-I’m sorry, Shiro,” he choked out. “I...I would do anything...to take your place…”

But only the tombstones heard him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Catch me crying about Voltron on Tumblr](http://mllecomtessedelafere.tumblr.com)


End file.
